


Colonial Paper

by formergirlwonder (orphan_account)



Category: Hamilton - Miranda, The Office (US)
Genre: Aaron Burr gets Actual Work Done, Adopted!Eliza, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And cameras follow them around everywhere, Angelica runs a feminist blog, Charles Lee is basically Dwight, Crossover, Eliza is the real angel here, Gen, George Washington wants a new job, I'm not actually kidding about that part, Lams!, No knowledge of The Office necessary, Rated T for beeped-out swearing, They all work at a paper company
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-18 12:58:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9386303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/formergirlwonder
Summary: In which the HamilSquad works at a paper company. Also, cameras follow them around, making a documentary about their lives.





	1. Swear Jar

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! This is my first work in the Hamilton fandom, but I really love the musical and the other fics! I recently read Legendary Paper, which put Arrowverse characters into the setting of The Office, and I thought the AU would be a good fit for Hamilton. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Oh, by the way, the italicized sections are the talking-head camera interviews (kind of like a confessional on reality TV).
> 
> (Obviously, I don't own this stuff).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Eliza gets fed up with the constant swearing and sets up a swear jar, chaos ensues (involving Bond movies, a betting pool, and a very fat mouse.)

It began because the heating system had malfunctioned in the night, and so the office of the Colonial Paper Company’s New York branch wasn’t anywhere near remotely livable temperatures by 9:00, when work began. Alexander Hamilton, child of sunny St. Croix, stuck his scarf-wrapped face tentatively through the door at 8:30.

“F***,” he breathed. He pulled his nose (the only visible part of him) back outside before turning to the camera. “You guys have been here for fifteen minutes already, and you didn’t think to go look for a space heater?” A pause. What little of his face was visible turned bright red. “What do you mean, _we don’t have a f***ing space heater? Motherf***ing George Frederick won’t pay for a f***ing space heater but he ordered a camera crew to make some f***ing vainglorious documentary?_ What a d***.” He stormed into his private office and shut the door.

* * *

“F*** this job,” said John Laurens succinctly as he pulled open the door at 8:35. “Is Alex here yet?”

* * *

_“Alex and I are really good friends, and honestly, some days, he’s the only thing that keeps me from throwing this job away and heading back to South Carolina,” John confided, a fond glance on his freckled face. There was a pause. “Oh, and to answer your question, no, we’re not dating. We’re just friends. Who kiss. Occasionally.”_

* * *

Alex poked a glove out through a crack in the door. “In here, John. Do you know how to build a fire without setting off the alarm?”

With a concerned glance at the camera, John jogged into the office. The door slammed behind him.

* * *

_“What the f*** does John mean, we’re not dating? Of course we’re dating! At least...I think we are. I hope so.” He looked nervously at the camera before regaining his resolve. “If he says we’re not dating, I am going to sweep him off his feet within the month.” Another pause, during which Alex tinkered on his phone. Unwrapped from his scarves, he turned out to be short with blazing eyes and long dark hair that fell around his face. “Wait, why does his profile on Facebook say it’s complicated? That doesn’t make sense…” Another pause. “Wait a second, I have to go yell at Lee about this post.” Alex took a breath. “WHAT THE H***, LEE!” he roared, charging out of the room, and apparently knocking the camera off its tripod. Hairline cracks spread across the screen._

* * *

“F***!” Hercules Mulligan boomed exasperatedly at 8:37. “What the h*** happened in here?” He looked around the office helplessly. “Anyone else here?” He shrugged and sat down at his desk.

* * *

_“What do I do here? I’m in Sales. We sell paper.” A pause, during which he aggressively straightened his custom-made T-shirt sweater and matching beanie. “And I’m the f***ing best d*** salesman around here. You want paper, you come to me, yo!” Hercules yelled, pumping his fist for the camera._

* * *

_“What do I do here?” John sighed. “I’m in HR, which means I’m basically responsible for making sure that things run smoothly. You can imagine how that goes. Oh, and as of this minute, according to the producers, I am now responsible for sitting in on all of Alex’s on-camera interviews and making sure he doesn’t smash any expensive recording equipment.” He smiled wanly. “Yay me.” As if on cue, there was a sound of crashing from the next room. John jumped up, with an anxious glance to the camera. “Alex? Lex, are you okay?”_

* * *

“F***, it’s cold in here,” said Angelica Schuyler, rubbing her arms determinedly at 8:43. Her sister Margarita moaned and sunk her head down onto her desk.

* * *

_Angelica Schuyler regarded the camera with a distinctly unamused glare. “You asked me a question, and you want me to start my answer by repeating the question? That’s ridiculous! Everyone’s answers are going to start the same way if you make me do that. Anyway, I work in Sales, with Laf and Herc and Lee. I like it okay, but I would like it **more** if people would stop staring at my chest. Seriously, I’m pretty sure Herc’s married.” She leaned forward, displaying the body parts in question to the camera more prominently. “What? No, I don’t need the money. I keep working here so my dad knows I’m responsible enough to keep a job and run my blog at the same time.” Another pause. “Yes, my dad is the founder and CEO of a major tech company. Why do you care?”_

* * *

_Margarita Schuyler laughed for the camera. “Ang always thinks people are looking at her boobs. That was one of the working titles of her blog, actually. She settled on **Shakespeare’s Sisters.** It’s from some dry essay by Virginia Woolf. According to Mum, Ang’s first word was “misogyny.” Followed by “peas.”” Margarita looked around as if trying to remember what she was doing in the interview room. “Peggy Schuyler, by the way. I work in Customer Service.” Her face turned suddenly indignant. “I don’t care if my paperwork says Margarita! Margarita’s a drink, Margaret’s a princess, and Marge is an old lady, so my name’s Peggy. I’m working on getting the paperwork fixed, okay?”_

* * *

“Why is it so f***cking cold in here?” asked George Washington at 8:45. Nobody had the spirit to answer him. He sighed tonelessly. “Where’s Hamilton?”

“In with Laurens,” Charles Lee supplied, his expression making it very clear what he thought of that.

* * *

_“What do I do here?” Charles Lee (fortyish and disconcertingly smug) smiled maliciously around the ice pack he was holding to his eye. “I keep George in line. Too often, he isn’t in tune with corporate policy. Honestly, between you and me, he’s due to be fired any day now.” A pause. “And if I had to describe myself in three words...Second. In. Command. No matter what Hamilton thinks.” A pause. “I know you didn’t ask me that. But studies show that that’s the most common interview question. So of course you were going to ask that. I beat you to it, just like I beat everyone to everything.” His grin stretched wider. “Yesterday, I beat two little girls to an ice cream truck.” His eyebrows creased slightly. “No, I don’t have kids. I just wanted ice cream. To throw at the neighbors’ house. They had a loud party last night, and corporate policy 6123-G states...” His eyes narrowed. “I know my neighbors don’t work here. If they did, I would see them. But it doesn’t mean that they shouldn’t follow corporate policy!”_

* * *

_Alex perched in a chair with an ice pack of his own, John hovering supportively by his side. “Lee’s a motherf***ing nuisance. Now can I get back to work, dammit?” John sighed fondly after him._

_“Alex is George’s assistant. But if Corporate knew what they were doing, they’d promote him to accounting. It’s ridiculous. He’s a financial genius, but they’re so afraid of him that they’ve got him tied down as a secretary.”_

* * *

Washington pulled his coat tighter around him, with a sideways glance at the closed door of Hamilton’s office. “Send Alex in when he’s ready, Lee. And let everyone know that Corporate has a PowerPoint to deliver to you guys. Something about reducing our energy consumption.”

A chorus of profanity greeted this announcement. “Settle down, folks!” yelled Lee, jumping atop a desk. “Shut up, or you’ll be working overtime.”

* * *

_“What do I do here? I’m the boss...I think. Sometimes between Corporate, Lee, and Alex, I’m not sure. I wish I wasn’t the boss,” Washington declared wistfully, gazing mournfully into the distance. He pulled himself together a second later. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you guys.”_

* * *

At 8:47, the door burst open with a bang. “Ze French is, how you say, in ze house!” The owner of the voice, whose large ponytail was reminiscent of nothing so much as a tail wagging its attendant dog, stuck his head through the door, wincing at the chill. “Why did zey make it so much ze cold in here today? It is, pardon my Spanish, the f***ing h***.” He slammed the door and flounced off to his desk.

* * *

_“What do I do in ze here?” Lafayette gestured expressively. “I bring ze French, mon ami!” He ruminated on that statement, before hastily adding, “And I make ze sales, too.”_

* * *

Nobody looked up from their shivering when the door opened and closed quietly at 8:51. The new entrant rubbed at his arms cautiously. “Christ, it’s cold in here.”

“Shut up, Burr,” Mulligan grumbled.

Hanging his coat neatly on the rack, he made his way to a desk in the back. “Good morning, Hercules. Is Alex in yet? I was hoping to go over some items in the budget with him.” Mulligan gestured silently to Alex’s office. The newcomer strode over and opened the door without knocking. He took a single glance inside before slamming it shut violently. “Oh, f***.”

* * *

_“Aaron Burr, legal.” Burr, unlike the previous interviewees, sat rod-straight in his chair, barely moving. The only visible sign that he was alive was his warm and frank smile, which he had not relaxed once since beginning the interview. “I’m sorry to cut this short, gentlemen, but I really need to get back to work.” With a brief nod, he rose and exited._

* * *

The door opened for the last time at 8:53 to reveal a smiling-faced young woman of about twenty-five, with a cart in tow. “Good morning! Brrr, it really is cold in here, isn’t it?”

Burr looked up from his desk. “Sorry, Eliza, were you talking to me? I didn’t catch it.”

She laughed cheerily. “No, Aaron, I was just saying it was cold. I didn’t believe Angelica when she texted. But I did stop on my way and pick up coffees for everyone! I figured that if it was cold enough to make Angie text me for extra coats--by the way, Ang, here they are--then we could all use a pick-me-up. I got nonfat lattes, I hope that’s okay.”

“You,” Burr assured her, “are a gift from the gods, and this latte is ambrosia and nectar.”

Eliza laughed and blushed as the remainder of the office swarmed her cart.

“Alexander, zere is some of zee coffee here!” yelled Lafayette.

Alex’s disheveled head popped out of the door hopefully. “I need two.” The coffees were secured and delivered. He took a big sip immediately and spat it out. “F***, lady, are you trying to poison me? Why the f*** did you bring _lattes_? Who drinks _lattes_? Why are you so f***ing dumb that you can’t think to bring _black_ coffee? It’s not rocket science, Schuyler 2!”

John Laurens slipped out from behind Alex and quietly escaped to his desk.

Eliza’s face blanched, and she bit her lip. “Sorry, Alex. I didn’t know anybody drank black coffee. It’s rather bitter, isn’t it?”

Alex regarded her with a disdainful curl to his lip. “Go to h***,” he snapped, sweeping back into his office. Eliza drooped ever so slightly as she made her way to her desk.

* * *

_“Elizabeth Schuyler--Eliza, I mean. I work in reception. I’m Angie and Peggy’s sister.” Eliza seemed camera-shy. She had shrunk back a little into her chair, her fingers were fiddling with the skirt of her dress, and her eyes were trained on the ground. “Yeah, reception’s not really the job I wanted here.” She smiled distantly. “But they only had two jobs that required actual skill when we applied, and I already work at the youth center on the side, so I let Ang and Peg apply for those. I haven’t been here as long as they have, just a few days, really. Oh, you want my first impressions of the office?” She fidgeted some more. “Um, Aaron’s really nice. He always says hi and thank you and bye to me, which is good. John is nice, too, though I don’t see as much of him, because he mostly works with Alex. I’m not really an unbiased witness about my sisters--wait, why do you want me to talk about Alex more? Okay, I guess.”_

_She tapped her foot a little in intense thought. “Alex is nice, I guess. It would be great if he would take the trouble to learn my actual name, but, I mean, some people just aren’t good with names, you know? But, um, he’s really smart, and I’m really happy that he and John have found each other. Yeah, they seem like a really good match.”_

_Eliza grinned when Mulligan and Lafayette were mentioned. “Herc and Laf are really funny. They make me laugh all the time. And Mr. Washington is a great boss. Just really responsible, and amazing, and very kind.”_

_Her eyes widened. “Lee? Yeah, he has...great qualities. Just...give me a moment here, I can think of them, it’s just a little tricky.” Thirty seconds later, she looked up. “I know! He’s...got admirable integrity. He’s very true to himself. Really, I’m privileged to work with such...interesting people.” She fixed the camera with what could only be described as puppy eyes. “I **do** wish they wouldn’t all swear quite so much, though. It makes me a bit uncomfortable, hearing grown adults talk like the kids at the youth center.”_

* * *

The PowerPoint from Corporate, which Lee presented at 11:15 on the dot, was not well-received in the slightest.

“This is a diagram of our current energy consumption levels in comparison to Corporate’s target energy levels,” Lee, tapping the next slide. “As you can see, we’re significantly over our consumption targets. Now, let’s discuss why this impacts you. If we reduce our energy levels, our profit margin increases, which means that we can prevent layoffs in the long-term, and you incompetent morons can keep your jobs.”

“Or,” Alex cut in nastily, “Corporate could reduce their branch budget, which gets bigger every year. And our current business model is totally unsustainable, by the way, but it’s not like Georgie cares. Oh no, all he cares about is that Corporate gets to buy thousand-dollar ergonomic chairs for his f***ing desk.”

“He has a _back problem_!” Lee snapped. He turned aggressively to Washington. “Sir, can I fire Hamilton?”

Washington groaned. “Lee, you ask me this every day. What do you think I’m going to tell you? Wait, don’t answer that. You can’t fire Alex.”

“Great,” said Alex smugly. “Thank you for your confidence in me, sir. Can I have that motherf***er’s job? _Pretty_ please?”

Washington gave a nearly inaudible moan. “No, Alex, you can’t have Lee’s job.”

“Can I fire him now?” Lee asked gleefully.

Washington sank his head back against the seat.

* * *

John Laurens pulled Alex aside as the meeting concluded. “Lex, you _need_ to apologize to Eliza. I really appreciate you making a fuss so I could get out of your office quietly, but trust me, you do _not_ want her sisters out for your blood. Just suck it up, be charming, and apologize about the coffee.”

Alex pouted momentarily, which should not have suited the face of anyone over the age of four. “Why do I have to apologize?”

John rolled his eyes in the direction of the camera. “Because, Alex, you were a real d*** to her. I love you, but I don’t even _like_ you when you expect coffee and you don’t get it. You’re like if Pavlov’s dog went rabid.”

“Well, actually, that metaphor is misguided...”

John pinched his arm hard to shut him up. “Alex, you were horrible. I’m looking out for you here, okay? Alexander? Alex? Lex, you with me?” Alexander’s eyes had glazed off into the distance, and his brows were furrowed with the weight of some unspoken question. He was often abstracted when trying to figure out a particularly thorny problem. “Alex, what’s bugging you?”

“Which one is Eliza? Is Eliza Schuyler 1?”

John visibly stifled a groan. “Two,” he deadpanned.

“Oh,” said Alex. “Can I do a proxy apology to Schuyler 1? She’s _way_ hotter than Schuyler 2. I mean, have you seen her _eyes_? And that chest of hers...not that I don’t have everything I could ever ask for right here,” he hastily amended as he caught John’s Look.

John rolled his eyes again. “No, you can’t apologize to Angelica. You have to apologize to Eliza, since Eliza was the one you swore at. Okay? Awesome. I’m glad that’s settled.”

Alexander mouthed “ _kill me now_ ” to the camera the instant John’s back was turned.

* * *

_“Alex hates apologizing,” John confided wearily. “You’d think I was dragging him to face a firing squad, the way he acts. It’s weird, how he’s such a genius, but honestly, he’s like, only half a human being. He’s exactly like a three-year old, you know? And anybody who gets even a little bit near him turns into a mom figure. I mean, I guess that’s kind of to be expected...well, he should probably say that stuff himself. Anyway, making him apologize to anyone about anything is like trying to make a three-year-old take a bath.” He paused contemplatively. “I mean, I know nothing about bathing three-year-olds, of course. But if I **had** a three-year old, getting them to take a bath would be like trying to get Lex to apologize.”_

* * *

By the time that John managed to corral a protesting Alexander out of the conference room, the office was in chaos. Alex, being himself a chaos magnet, spotted the precise center of the chaos before John or the camera had even had the chance to get their bearings.

“Hey! Schuyler 2! What the f*** is that jar doing on the counter?”

Eliza, who was herself the center of a tangle of vociferously shouting individuals, glanced back at him hesitantly. “It’s a swear jar,” she supplied.

Alex rolled his eyes. “I’m not dumb, okay? I can read, and it says **SWEAR JAR** on it in big block letters. What I want to know is, why the f*** is there a swear jar in this office? I have a right to freedom of speech.”

* * *

_“I knew somebody would bring that up,” Eliza admitted. “It kind of makes sense that it was Alex. He’s **so** smart, and there was no way it was going to get past him. Those eyes of his see everything, you know? So I covered my bases by looking up Corporate’s noise pollution policies. Turns out, you’re not allowed to swear in the workplace, which I’m sure will **really** surprise some people--” (Eliza let out a ladylike cough that might possibly have sounded a little like **Alex**.) “But since everyone does it, it’s not like there’s any sort of real penalty. I thought maybe we could use the honor system instead.”_

* * *

“Fifty cents,” said Eliza mildly.

“Go to h***,” said Alex. “You can’t make me pay.”

“Seventy-five,” said Eliza. “And if you pay, it sets a good example for the rest of the office, _and_ it goes to the party-planning fund.”

“I don’t f***ing care,” Alex snapped.

“A dollar,” Eliza insisted, holding out her hand. He blinked at it.

“I didn’t swear! I said _I don’t care_ , which didn’t contain any swear words the last time I checked.”

Eliza put a hand on her hip. “You must have sworn unconsciously, then, because this entire office heard you swear. Come on, Alex, _please_ pay. Be a bigger person.”

He bristled. “Are you implying that I am ethically lacking? Because allow me to assure you that I am not. What is ethically lacking is your ridiculous, prudish insistence on so-called decorum at the expense of--”

“Fine,” said Eliza, deflating. “You don’t have to pay. It was a stupid idea anyway.”

The entire room had gone silent, observing the standoff. A tense minute passed.

“Fine,” Alex snapped, dropping a dollar in the jar. “By the way, I hate you, Schuyler 2. And I was going to apologize about the coffee, but now I won’t!”

John Laurens muttered something under his breath, turned bright red, and silently plunked a quarter in the jar.

* * *

_“I don’t mind apologizing. When I’m wrong. Which I rarely am,” Alex insisted. “John’s overblowing this. I mean, I feel bad for Schuyler 2, but she should learn to deal. And this whole baloney about me using swear words? Give me a break. I heard far worse growing up. Schuyler 2 needs to toughen up. I mean, c’mon. It’s not like she’s never sworn, right? Her sisters swear; transitive property, she swears. Right?” He looked appealingly at the camera. “Right?”_

* * *

After Alex Hamilton gave in, the anti-swear-jar forces seemed momentarily defeated, but within a matter of seconds, they found a new champion.

“Excuse me, Elizabeth. But how exactly does this work? If I say I’m bringing my fat a** to work, and what I mean is that I’m bringing my fat _donkey_ to work, then do I get penalized?”

“I don’t know,” Eliza admitted from a corner of her desk. Lee, scenting blood, hemmed her in farther.

“Really? Because it seems to me that you should have thought about things like that before you did this. See, I get that your job is basically answering phones, but when one of us _actual_ workers has an idea, we submit a--” He looked down at his victim. “What did you say?”

“Twenty-five cents,” Eliza squeaked. “For the A word. Because if you meant donkey, you should have said donkey.”

Lee glowered.

* * *

_“Do I like swearing? No. I think it’s despicable, frankly. But do I want to see that stuck-up Schuyler b*** suffer? Hell, yes.” Lee’s face stretched into a menacing grin. “And when I said b***, I meant **female dog** ,” he added snarkily._

* * *

Angelica tapped Eliza on the shoulder. “Hey, Lizzie? You got a sec?”

Eliza whirled round from confronting Lee. “One second, Mr. Lee. Of course, Angie! What do you need?”

Angelica gave a warm smile. “I know you’re busy, but can you do me a favor? Would you mind running and grabbing me some tea from that café down the street? Large chai, decaffeinated, almond milk, with a sugar and a half?”

“Sure thing!” said Eliza brightly, slipping past Lee. “Pardon me, Mr. Lee. Please do pay, though!” she called, already on her way out the door.

* * *

_“When I was seven, I figured out how to deal with Eliza. It’s like having a cheat code, or a manual override. And it’s literally failproof. All you have to do is say the six magic words.” Angelica leaned forward conspiratorially. “Can you do me a favor?” She smiled fondly. “I don’t know how Eliza hasn’t realized that we’re playing her. It’s kind of amazing--she’s like our own personal genie! I guess, maybe I should feel, like, humbled by how amazingly nice she is? But honestly, I mostly just use it to get her out of the way when I need to. Eliza needs defending a lot, but she’s way too proud to let me fight her battles for her. So I just send her on a favor, and then when she comes back, it’s all fixed. It’s like I’m bad cop, and she’s good cop, but she doesn’t actually know there’s a bad cop.”_

* * *

The instant the door closed behind Eliza, Angelica’s smile disappeared. “Pay up, Lee, or I swear I’ll castrate you. And if you swear again, I suggest you pay promptly next time.”

Lee smirked at her. “You can’t make me do anything. Now go back to work, b****.”

Angelica’s face flushed defiantly. “You want to say that again, Lee?”

“B****,” he taunted again.

“And again?”

Lee complied. As soon as he was done, Angelica kneed him onto the desk, grimacing as she fished her hand in his pocket.

“Alright, that’ll be a dollar, Lee. Thanks for paying up!” she said cheerily, extracting a bill from his wallet and plopping it in the jar. “And if you try to avoid paying again--” here she leaned in dramatically, whispering for maximum impact, “--I know your credit card number now.”

Lee scowled as she walked away.

* * *

Hercules Mulligan turned around in his swivel chair, aiming a crumpled-up Post-it with extreme precision at the back of Peggy Schuyler. He launched it, watching its elliptical flight with fascination, until at long last, it hit its target. Peggy turned around, right on cue, and stuck her tongue out at Mulligan.

* * *

_“Alex, he has some idea zat if Eliza swears, then she can’t make us pay. Something about ze, how you say, moral authority. So he’s started up a round of betting on wezzer or not she can swear, with a bonus prize to ze one who makes her swear. Hercules and I are, how you say, teaming up, to figure out which of ze bet to make.”_

* * *

_“Of course I bet that she could swear! I bet she swears like a sailor, and she’s just faking being too good for it. Stuck-up little b**** wants us all to know that she’s slumming it. She probably thinks it’ll interest men. Wrong, of course. According to Return of Kings, what interests men is beauty, cooking skills, and appropriate hobbies, like yoga. None of this feminism bulls***.” Lee crossed his arms defiantly. “I get all my lifestyle advice from Return of Kings. See, I’ve taken the red pill. I see now how clueless and weak modern men are.” He straightened his tie with a sniff. “People like me, we’re going to rule the world. Trump for President, 2016,” he concluded, facing the camera with a triumphant snarl._

* * *

Mulligan threw a second Post-it. “Pssst! Peggy!”

“Glad I could help. If it doesn’t arrive within the next three to five days, let me know, okay? Alright, bye-bye.”

He threw a third Post-it. She flung one at him without looking, and it hit him squarely in the jaw. “Do you see what your sister’s doing over there? Is she always like that?”

Peggy spared a glance at Angelica, who was in the process of manhandling Charles Lee. She snorted. “Yep. Nobody messes with the Schuyler sisters. Even if Beth is way too nice to mess with them back, Angie has no issues with beating people up.” She paused thoughtfully. “Or cussing them out, although I imagine she isn’t doing that right now because of the swear jar.”

“Does Eliza cuss people out ever?”

Peggy scoffed. “Not on my watch. It would take an apocalypse to make Bethie swear.”

Behind him, Lafayette got up from his desk, wallet in hand, and ducked into Alexander’s office.

* * *

By the end of the day, the bets had been placed. Lafayette and Mulligan each bet twenty dollars that Eliza wouldn’t swear. On the other side were Lee ($15), Hamilton ($10), Laurens ($5, guiltily and after much convincing), and Washington ($1, without thinking, when Hamilton hid the question amid a barrage of more important queries).

The anti-swear jar forces convened for an after-work meeting at the coffee shop downstairs. “Alright,” said John, exhaustedly nursing a mint tea, “let me just remind everyone of the rules. Two weeks to get her to swear on camera. If she does that, we double our money, with a nine dollar bonus to whoever’s responsible. Seriously, though, guys, can we not do anything too heinous this time? She’s actually kind of nice.”

* * *

_“I feel awful, okay? Eliza doesn’t deserve to have both Alex and Lee making her life miserable.” He listened to a question from off-camera for a moment. “Why did I do it, then, if I’m against it?” John sighed. “Alex is...insecure. Really insecure, especially about his upbringing. And hearing him ranting against her...I mean, I know it’s horrible of me, but I...kind of saw his point? People should have some sort of chance at basic equality. Eliza for him is this--representation of a life he never had a chance at. So I guess he’s trying to--prove that she’s not actually any better than him. I mean, he didn’t say it explicitly, but it was kind of...there?” He groaned suddenly. “I am going to regret this, probably.” In the corner of the frame, Alex jumped onto a table. “Yep, I am definitely going to regret this.”_

* * *

Lee leered excitedly at the gathering. “I overheard her sister’s interview, which gives us an advantage. She does anything anybody says if they say it’s a favor.”

* * *

_Washington looked around helplessly. “Why am I here? I feel like they’re high schoolers egging houses, and I’m the driver. I don’t want to be here. I really don’t.”_

* * *

“I have a plan!” Alex yelled, causing some of the other patrons to shoot glares at him. “But you all have to be in. This doesn’t work unless we’re all trying our very hardest. That means you, John. And Washington. Now, everybody, listen…”

* * *

Everyone seemed to turn a blind eye when Eliza Schuyler’s job became ridiculously difficult overnight. It started with the favors.

“Hey, Eliza, I just realized that I forgot to feed my bird this morning,” said Hamilton, approaching her desk and leaning on it. “Can you do me a favor and go feed him?”

Eliza looked around nervously. “Ordinarily, I would, but I could get fired if  
I don’t cover the phones,” she admitted.

He scoffed. “I’ll explain to George. Go on. I live in an apartment complex called the Grange, about a mile away. One of the cameramen can walk with you. It’s number 112, and the pellets are in the cupboard. Feed him ¼ cup, and then check his water bowl, okay?”

With a last longing glance at her desk, Eliza left.

* * *

_“I mean, I don’t mind helping people out on ordinary days, but today’s been really busy for some reason. And everyone’s looking at me kind of oddly. I mean, I know I sound paranoid, but I sort of feel like...everyone’s pranking me? Or laughing at an inside joke I don’t know? And I really like Alex, I do, but--his parrot bites!” Eliza confessed. “And his house is not a mile away. It’s definitely at least two miles away, and the cameraman looked really conflicted, like he was trying to decide whether to tell me something. I don’t know, I think I’m going insane. Do you know,” she confided, “Lee came up to me this morning with a bag of hash browns and asked if I could sauté them in **elbow grease!** ” She sighed. “Anyway, I’d better get back to the phones.”_

* * *

“Ugh!” said Eliza, hanging up the phone and throwing her head onto her desk. Alex hung up the phone in his office and stormed outside.

“What is going on? You’re thinking too loud for me, so can you knock it off?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just--”

“I. Don’t. Care,” he insisted, retreating to his office to snicker.

* * *

John cornered Alex in his office a while later. “Alex, we need to shut this down, okay? She filled out a complaint form today about Lee making her wash his old stinky tank tops, and, oh, I don’t know, some f***er with an exaggerated Caribbean accent calling her again and _again_ to say things that included “If you have an Apple device, please call customer service at this number, as it may be bugged,” “are you interested in converting to the Church of Indigenous Infants so that you can be saved from the fires of Hell?”, “Is this Domino’s Pizza?”, “Where’s my extra-large Supreme Pizza?”, “My refrigerator’s running for President and I’d like you to vote for him,” “Why aren’t you a Trump supporter?”, “The man in red is watching you and he will kill your friends and family to remind you of his love,” and my personal favorite, no less than _five_ calls about how to sign up for notifications from a child sex trafficking ring, ending with “shut up, Eliza, I know _you_ think it’s a paper company, now tell your bosses not to hire such a stupid idiot to sign people up for their urban-singles-with-pedophilia chat line!”

Alex roared with laughter until he caught sight of John’s expression. “Did I break corporate policy?” he inquired guiltily. “Oh, and before you answer that one, did she say it was a f***er with a Caribbean accent, or did you add that bit?”

John put his head in his hands. “She said it was a Caribbean gentleman.”

“Oh,” said Alex. He tagged on a stream of positively vicious swearing as an afterthought.

“I don’t think you realize how serious this is, Lex. Forget about corporate policy, she could sue you!” He sighed before adding, “Although, unfortunately, Corporate doesn’t have a policy against prank-calling employees, probably because they didn’t know you when they wrote the policy. Now for goodness’ sake, Alex, tone it down!”

“Fine,” groused Alex. “I will, okay?”

“Sorry if I was harsh,” said John.

Alex sighed. “You’re not harsh. I just--I don’t know. Thanks for looking out for me.”

“Any time, Lex. No more prank calls, okay?” John caught sight of a brown paper sack on Alex’s desk. “Hold on, what is that? Did it just _wriggle_?”

Alex dived for it hastily. “No--yes--trust me, you don’t want to know, and now you don’t have to. I’ll have Lee get rid of it.”

* * *

With a bit of luck, everything might have died down and been forgotten. Unfortunately, Eliza came to work the next day wearing _pigtails_ , which meant that she didn’t stand a chance. With two long, narrow braids dangling tantalizingly down her back at all times, the pranking possibilities were endless.

* * *

_“Alright,” said Angelica to the camera, crossing her arms, “You guys clearly know what’s going on. So you are going to tell me why people are messing with Lizzie. Do I make myself clear? I want to know who’s responsible, what they’re planning, and why they’re planning it. And you guys are going to tell me, or so help me, I will make your lives into a living hell.” She glared menacingly, tapping her foot with impatience. Finally, she spoke up again. “We clear?”_

* * *

Angelica dragged Peggy into the conference room at 10:11. “We need to protect Lizzie!” she hissed.

“What from?” asked Peggy, tensing into a battle stance.

“Alex Hamilton. He’s trying to take her out so he can get rid of the swear jar. That’s why she was in a funk last night.”

* * *

_“Yeah, Bethie wasn’t doing too well when we got home,” Peggy admitted. “How did I know? One: she kept asking if we were okay. I think she thinks it deflects suspicion off her. Two: she drank an entire pot of chamomile tea and went to bed early, even though we were binge-watching Bond movies. Three: she even slept with Phil. Classic upset Eliza. I rest my case.” Peggy’s face twisted in indignation at something offscreen. “What? No! That’s not her at all. No! Phil’s her old teddy bear. He lives on the shelf in her bedroom, but when she’s really upset and she needs something to hug, she sleeps with him. She thinks we don’t know, but we know.”_

* * *

“We need a plan of attack!” Peggy whispered. “I say we infiltrate their organization from the inside. We could pretend that we hate Eliza as well.” She adopted an exaggerated Northern English accent. “I was always jealous of the brat. She stole our father’s love, and before we know it, she’ll steal his company right out from under him, and sell it to the Chinese government!”

Angelica rolled her eyes ever so slightly. “You watched one too many James Bond movies last night, Pegs. Listen, here’s our play. I’ll go in and confront Hamilton. You stay outside of his office and wait. When he bolts out in terror, watch people’s faces. That way, we can know who’s really behind this--it’ll be whoever’s the most shocked-looking.” Her face darkened. “I suspect Burr. It’s always the quiet ones.”

Peggy cocked her head to one side. “Couldn’t we just ask the cameramen who it really is?”

Angelica shook her head furiously. “No, Peggy! Don’t you understand? They can’t be trusted! They might be in on it!”

Peggy’s face scrunched up dubiously. “Then why are we letting them record us plotting against them?”

Angelica tapped her fingers on her thigh as she considered this. “We’re sending a message, we--we’re letting them know we’re taking a stand. A stand against bullying. We’re giving them advance warning, so they know that we won’t stop until we bring them down!”

* * *

At 10:25 on the dot, Angelica stormed into Alex’s office.

“Hamilton,” she said, slamming her purse violently onto the table. “We need to talk.”

Lesser men would have taken one look at her face and bolted. Alex, to his credit, stood his ground. (The fact that he stood his ground could _perhaps_ be attributed to the fact that he didn’t bother to glance up, and thus never saw her face.) “Schuyler 3, is it? I have better things to do right now.”

Angelica seized his wrist. “Not right now, you don’t. Who are you working for?”

Alex squinted at his expense reports. “Huh? Um, I work for the Colonial Paper Company. So do you.”

She laughed mirthlessly. “Stop evading. You know what I mean. I want a name, and I have a knife in my purse.”

“Um, George. George Washington. He’s my boss.”

Angelica drew in her breath sharply. “ _No_.” She made a grab for Alex’s collar, as if she intended to pin him to the wall, but he escaped her mindlessly, still scanning expense reports. “Why does _Washington_ want my sister taken out?”

“Huh?” said Alex, suddenly looking up and becoming acutely aware of the beautiful woman who was interrogating him. His hand reached back and tucked a strand of flyaway hair into his ponytail. “Slow down, Schuyler 1. I mean...who would want to go after your sister, if it meant risking the wrath of a gorgeous woman such as yourself?”

That stopped Angelica in her tracks. “I don’t know, Mr. Hamilton. Who would?”

He grinned flirtatiously at her. “You can call me Alex.”

She drew back coyly. “I think you’re forgetting yourself. You’re practically my boss.”

Alex had pulled up a page on his phone under the table. “Pssh,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “Your weekly allowance is probably more than my college tuition, and” (he glanced briefly at the phone) “your blog is incredible. Truly a work of genius. I particularly appreciated the article on” (another swift glance at the phone) “the dehumanization of cosplayers. I also liked the recent one, the one about the misguided portrayal of female characters on Sherlock.”

Angelica raised an eyebrow. “Did you now?” she asked sweetly, snatching his phone.

The game was on.

* * *

Peggy Schuyler tapped her foot impatiently outside the door to Alex’s office.

Lafayette and Mulligan eyed her warily from their desk. “Do you think zat if ze Schuylers hurt him very badly ze bet is off?”

“I dunno, Laf. We better keep an eye on things.”

Washington was dejectedly sipping coffee in his office. A large sign on the door read, “Do Not Disturb.” In smaller print it continued, “In Case of Natural Disaster, Knock First. In Case of Corporate Inspection, Knock First. If Lee and Alex Are At Each Other’s Throats Again, Bother Laurens. In Case of Injury, Use First Aid Kit. Always Triage, Even If Alex Says His Papercut Is Killing Him. If Circumstance Is Not Listed, DO NOT DISTURB!”

Lee and Laurens were flipping a coin in the corner. John looked up guiltily when the camera came around.

Eliza was humming “A Dream is A Wish Your Heart Makes” as she shredded papers.

Aaron Burr was getting actual work done.

* * *

At 10:45, Lee asked Eliza if he could look through the files for records of an old sale that he was trying to recreate. She offered to help him look, but John, as it turned out, was having some rather complicated computer trouble. With a sigh, Eliza sat back down in her chair, accepted the proffered laptop, and commenced de-bugging.

“Okay, I’ve downloaded some quick and easy sweeper software for you. It’ll check through and flag anything suspicious.”

At 10:47, Lee shot John an enormous grin and a thumbs-up, then grabbed a random file and headed back to his desk. John swallowed and kept talking to Eliza. “You’re good at this,” he noted.

“Titan of industry’s adopted daughter,” she replied absently. “I was bound to pick up a few things. Honestly, I kind of think Dad’s grooming me to take over the company. He keeps on mentioning that I’m more reliable than Angie, and more creative than Peggy, and he _really_ didn’t want me to take this job. He thinks I should move away for a few years and get my Master’s in Business, even though I’d have to stop working at the youth center.”

“What do you want?” asked John sympathetically.

“I don’t know. I think I want to...make a difference. I mean, who knows where I’d be right now if the adoption system had made different choices with me? I--I want to do something to make sure that all kids have a chance. I love my dad, but he sees the company, and I see the world.” An intense spasm of guilt crossed John’s face.

“I know what you mean,” he said, leaning on the desk. “My dad’s a senator. He wanted me and my little brother to go into politics, but I mean, you’ve gotta follow your heart. I--I mean, this isn’t where I wanted to end up, how could it be, but at least I’m free, you know?”

Eliza smiled. “At least you’re free. What do you want to do?”

He thought for a moment. “Fix poverty.” Eliza laughed warmly. “I’m serious!” John protested.

“What’s your plan?” she asked.

He shrugged. “It all comes down to education, doesn’t it? Education means jobs. But you have to make the education system palatable to people, make it worth more than the opportunity cost of a day’s work. The current government-sponsored welfare system doesn’t work. It’s a step, but it isn’t perfect. What needs to happen is--”

“Back to work, people!” yelled Lee.

Eliza handed John his laptop. “Hey,” she whispered, “wait a sec. My dad’s company is always looking for community outreach ideas. It’s good for PR. Let me just find a Post-it, and I’ll write the coordinator’s contact info down for you.” John nodded and smiled gratefully.

Eliza leaned forward to open the drawer of her desk, only to be brought up short suddenly. Her hand groped behind her head and found that her braids had been neatly tied to the back of her chair.

* * *

_“I used to be a Boy Scout, before they threw me out for stealing thirty-one extra badges. I know all the best knots. I can tie them fast, and I can tie them tight. Anyway, I eye-spliced the two braids together. The Schuyler b*** won’t be getting out in a hurry_.”

* * *

John turned pink as Eliza jerked her head, trying to figure out what was going on. “Here, let me get that for you,” he said, leaning over the desk and tugging on the drawer. It didn’t budge. He tugged harder. It popped free, and the contents of the drawer scattered.

* * *

_Lee and Alex sat together in the interview room. “I asked you to dispose of it!” Alex yelled. “What part of **dispose of it** means **put it in Eliza’s desk like we were going to**? Dispose means **“the plan’s called off, send the evidence back to PetSmart!”** ”_

_Lee grunted. “Dispose: verb: to arrange in a particular position.”_

_“That’s the secondary definition, Lee! The secondary definition is always superseded by the primary definition, unless context implies otherwise!”_

_“Context did imply otherwise, Hamilton.”_

* * *

On Eliza’s lap, a very cute, very fat mouse, fresh from PetSmart, scrabbled for a clawhold. Unfortunately, in the heat of the moment, the cuteness of the mouse was lost on Eliza, who screamed and tried to get out of the chair. Lee’s eye-splice held firm, wrenching her head back. The mouse squeaked miserably and dug in tighter.

Angelica and Alex came racing out of the office at the sound of the scream, only to be tackled by Peggy in a murderous range. “ _I--am--going--to--tear--your--heart--out_!” Peggy growled viciously, straddling Alex with deadly intent and completely forgetting her responsibility to observe her coworkers’ reactions. It was lucky that she did forget, since the pure shock on Burr’s face would have struck her as highly suspicious.

Washington banged on the glass of his office and yelled, “Keep it down, people!”

Eliza, shaking slightly, calmed herself long enough to deposit the mouse gently on her desk. “Can someone please untie me?” she called.

Angelica extricated herself from Alex’s hands, which were grasping frantically at her ankles, and rushed over to her sister’s side.

* * *

By 11:15, Angelica managed to release Eliza. The office had ostensibly gone back to work, but very little was being done (except by Burr). Laurens was busily typing an incident report. Herc and Laf had been dispatched to PetSmart to return the mouse. Alex was loudly demanding first aid for his injured throat. Peggy was answering customer calls with a bubbly voice, while glaring at Alex with savage eyes. Lee was busy explaining to Washington what the hell was going on (in a way that absolved him of any responsibility.)

As the last knot fell away, Eliza stood up at her desk. “Um, excuse me guys, I have an announcement to make. This will only take a second.”

Everyone stopped working to stare at her. She cleared her throat.

“I don’t know why you guys hate me so much. Ang says it was because of the swear jar, so if I offended anyone, I’m sorry. I still think you could have talked to me like a mature adult, if you had an issue. I try to be nice, but that doesn’t mean I’m stupid. Anyway, I think you should all be ashamed of yourselves. Oh, and um,” she muttered something softly. Nobody heard her.

“What was that?” asked Lee disdainfully.

“I said I quit,” said Eliza forcefully, sticking her chin up. She grabbed her belongings from the desk and swept them into her coat, adding the swear jar to the pile after a moment’s deliberation. She picked up her purse, and left, closing the door softly.

“You’re fired,” Alex mumbled to her retreating back.

“Thank you for your service,” said Washington.

She didn’t hear them.

* * *

“Okay, let me guess,” said Alex as John entered his office. “You want me to find her and apologize.”

John nodded wearily. “Nailed it in one, Lex. Are you going to?”

Alex groaned. “Won’t she come back on her own?”

“No, she won’t.”

“But her sisters work here!”

“I heard them planning to quit on the way in here,” John lied. In reality, the Schuyler sisters had been plotting revenge.

* * *

_“We’re going to put bubble gum in Alex’s hair. And of course, the only way to get bubble gum out of hair is peanut butter…” Angelica began._

_Peggy finished maliciously. “...But John’s allergic to peanuts. And almonds, and hazelnuts, and cashews. Which means that Alex is going to have to go for an allergy-friendly option, which will probably end up being tahini. I’d say I pitied him, but I don’t.”_

_“If he doesn’t like tahini, he can always cut his hair,” Angelica mused_.

* * *

“Fine. I’ll be the bigger man and apologize.”

John seemed flabbergasted. “Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Great! Listen, nothing too weird, okay? Just be natural. Have a conversation with her, okay? I promise, she’s really nice. She might be one of the nicest people I’ve ever met.”

Alex snorted. “No pressure, then.” He motioned to the camera. “C’mon, then. Let’s go apologize.”

John made a strangled choking sound. “Um, Alex, are you sure you should bring the camera for this? Maybe it should just be a calm, private moment.”

Alex’s eyebrows drew together. “But if I don’t bring the camera, then how do people know I’m the bigger man?”

* * *

Alex (and the camera) found Eliza on the park bench, her eyes suspiciously damp. “Is this an exit interview?” she asked. “I’ve only worked here a week or so, so can you just let me go without humiliating me further?”

Alex motioned the camera to a safe distance and sat down beside her. “It’s not an exit interview. I mean, if you’re actually leaving, it could be, if you want. I just wanted--”

She rounded on him. “Do you think I didn’t mean it when I said I was quitting?”

“N--no, of course not. I just thought you might want to reconsider--”. One look at her face told him that he needed a new tactic. “I mean--look, it was all me. Nobody hates you, honestly, Eliza. My boyfriend sent me out here to apologize--”

“Oh, did he? I knew it wasn’t your idea--”

He kept talking over her. “--because, quote, “She might be one of the nicest people I’ve ever met”. End quote. So you can quit if you want. Fine. But you deserve to know why I did what I did before you do, and you deserve to know that I’m sorry.”

Eliza’s eyes were hooded and expressionless. “Okay. I’ll listen.”

He gulped down a breath. “When you put out that jar, it made me feel like you were--setting yourself above all of us. Now, logically, I know that isn’t true. But I’m not very great at controlling those mean little voices in the back of my head. Anyway, I got way out of control. I never meant to hurt you, Eliza. Honestly, I didn’t. I just wanted to prove that you weren’t better than me, just because you’re rich.”

There was a long silence, during which neither of them looked at each other.

“Eliza? Are you alright?”

“I’m not really rich. I'm adopted,” she said by way of reply. “I mean, you probably knew that, looking at Ang and Peg by comparison. So, yeah, I get it. And I forgive you, of course. I'm sorry, too. Do you ever have that feeling like you can’t mess up, not ever?”

“Yeah,” Alex admitted.

“That’s why I’m so--prissy, I guess. If I mess up, I’m wasting the opportunities my dad gave me when he adopted me. So I try to act like a rich girl, because otherwise, I’m knowingly relinquishing the advantages that my dad’s money gave me.” She laughed sadly. “I mean, I’ve been sitting on this park bench for half an hour, trying to think about how to explain to my dad that I quit the job. I mean, I know he wouldn’t mind that much, especially if he heard what happened, but--I mean, it would be one of the first times I’ve ever failed him. I keep on having a dumb worry that if I mess up he’ll, like, kick me out or something, even though I _know_ I’m part of the family. You know, the harder I work, the higher his expectations go, because he realizes that I’m capable of a lot, but--I mean, sometimes I just want to be the same as Ang and Peg. Not sweet, or responsible, or adopted, or _anything_!” She wiped her nose. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling. I shouldn’t be telling you this, especially not on camera.”

“It’s okay,” said Alex. “It humanizes you. You don’t have to be scared of looking human.” He took a breath. “Tell you what, though. We’ll make sure your dad never sees this documentary, ever, ok? I promise.”

She smiled. “Can I hug you?” she asked softly.

“Why?” said Alex.

She wiped her eyes. “Because I need a hug, and you look like you’d be good at giving them. Also, you deserve a hug for hearing me ramble.”

“Sure,” said Alex, folding her into his arms.

* * *

_“Yeah, Alex is nice. Really nice. I’m glad we’re friends now.” said Eliza, smiling beatifically._


	2. The Duel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valentine's Day is coming up, so the men of the office start chatting up the Schuyler Sisters. Meanwhile, George Frederick arrives, complete with a Chihuaua and bad news. Somehow, all this leads to a duel in the parking lot, Alex having a panic attack, a rare pair meet-cute, a strike, and caviar-flavored kibble in a sterling silver bowl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I'm back! Hope you like this chapter!

Charles Lee draped himself flirtatiously over Peggy Schuyler’s desk as she finished up with a customer.  
  
“No, I can’t imagine why that would be. Alright, you said you ordered cardstock? Do you remember if it was cream or eggshell? Alright, eggshell it is. No, ma’am, I’m filing a complaint for you with the manager stating that you received off-white instead of cre—eggshell. May I interest you in a refund? No? Ma’am, it isn’t really my fault. No, ma’am, I’m not out to swindle you. Just give me a moment, ma’am, I’m pulling up your order right now.” She tapped a few buttons on her computer before returning to the telephone. “Actually, ma’am, it looks like you ordered off-white. No, I’m fairly certain our website is correct.” Her face clouded. “Well, I don’t know what that means, but so are you. Have a nice day, ma’am, and don’t you dare darken this store’s doors again. Or if you do, at least make sure you press the right color before you head to checkout. And be nicer to customer service representatives, or else they’ll authorize large purchases on your account. Just kidding, ma’am. I can’t actually do that. I hope you die. Bye-bye.”  
  
She hung the phone up with a click, sinking her head onto her desk.  
  
“May I be of service?” Lee inquired, batting his eyelashes.

* * *

 _“Valentine’s Day is coming up,” explained Eliza, “and the office is going to have some big-ish party with all the branches invited. At least, that’s what Ang said when Peg asked her why everybody was being nice all of a sudden. I don’t really agree with her, though. I mean, who needs a reason to be nice? Can’t you just decide to be nice?” She furrowed her eyebrows helplessly. “I haven’t noticed people being nicer to me, anyway. Ang says that’s because the people in this office don’t understand that the girl next door is sexy. I’m not sure what that has to do with it. She just kept talking about bomb casings. Or was it bombshells? And something to do with hourglasses.” Eliza’s nose wrinkled. “No, I’m not going. I have a Valentine’s Day date with Phil.” She sighed wistfully. “And a nice warm bath, and a big pot of chamomile tea.” After a moment, she added, “Phil’s my teddy bear.”_  
  
_The cameraman pretended that he didn’t already know that._

* * *

“Yeah, you can be. Get off my desk and go do your work,” said Peggy waspishly, yanking her chair out from the desk and stomping over to the water cooler. Lee followed her, looking strangely like a cross between Cerberus and a lovelorn Tyrannosaurus Rex.

“If I could rearrange the alphabet,” Lee ventured, “I’d put U between F and--”

“Eww, _gross_! Go _away_!” Peggy yelled, covering her ears and making a dive for the break room.

Lee followed her in. “I read this joke yesterday, it was really funny. A reporter goes to the Orient, and he notices that all the men walk ten feet in front of their women. To show their superiority,” he explained, puffing out his chest. Peggy pushed past him to get to the refrigerator, slamming the door in his face.

“But when he came back a month later, it had changed, and the women walked in front of the men! Do you know why? Three guesses.” He planted himself in front of the door with his arms crossed.

“Because they got fed up with the misogynist bullshit and decided to rebel?”

“No,” taunted Lee, grinning broadly.

“Because all the men died from the sheer absurdity of their bad pickup lines, not to mention the fragility of their ridiculous egos? Seriously, move right _now_. I have to get back to work.”

“Give up?” asked Lee with a maniacal grin.

“If it’ll get you to move.” Peggy shot a glance through the window at Eliza and Angelica.

* * *

_“It’s kind of an unspoken pact for the three of us that we cover each other’s backs. Whenever Ang or I is in trouble, we desperately hope that Eliza shows, because she tends to be the only person who can stop us from punching our way out of bad situations. That’s why I got fired from my last job--wait, I shouldn’t have said that. Ignore that. Basically, long story short, Eliza is the true hero of the Schuyler family. Ang is also good, too, it’s just that Ang is a little more likely to solve problems by punching people. Which can get you fired. As I know.”_

* * *

Eliza, however, was busy answering the phone. Peggy’s eyes fastened desperately on the back of Angelica’s head.

“Landmines!” Lee crowed triumphantly.

“Huh?” asked Peggy, blinking dazedly. Before Lee could respond, she started pulling her phone out of her purse and unlocking it. “Just a second, Lee.” She pressed a few buttons and slid it back into her purse. “Sorry, what was that?”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter that you didn’t get it,” Lee consoled. “Most women don’t get it the first time. It’s because you have smaller brains than men, you see. But the joke is that the women walk ahead, so they can step on the landmines first, and then they can get blown up instead of the men!”

Peggy bristled. “Lee, that was an offensive joke. Please apologize.”

“It’s not my fault you didn’t get it,” he sneered.

As if by magic, Angelica materialized behind him. “ _Got your text,_ ” she mouthed to Peggy. “Lee, apologize. Now.”

“No,” Lee insisted. “A man doesn’t--”

Peggy shoved a hand over his mouth. “Here’s a hint. No matter _what_ you planned to end that sentence with, it’s offensive. And incorrect.”

Lee mumbled something from under the hand.

“Let him up,” Angelica suggested. She turned to the camera. “You guys’ll make sure this footage doesn’t get to Corporate, right?”

“I challenge you to a duel, Angelica Schuyler,” Lee muttered sulkily.

“Huh?” said Peggy.

“A duel. If women are as good as men, then they can settle their problems like men. With a duel. One-on-one, no weapons, to a surrender. In the parking lot, after work today.”

“Um, okay?” said Angelica. “I have no idea what you mean, but sure.”

“Good. I await it with eagerness.” Lee bowed stiffly and walked out. “Oh--and don’t tell anyone.”

Angelica and Peggy stared at each other.

* * *

_“Dueling is kind of an old joke around here,” John explained. “I think it was Alex’s idea to start with. Basically, if two people around here get in an argument that nobody can settle, they fight it out in the parking lot after work until one of them gives in. Or until an ambulance gets called. Or until the police show. Or until Washington finds out. Whichever comes first.” He leaned back in his chair. “It was nice while it lasted. I kind of miss getting to beat Lee to a pulp every now and then.” He sat bolt upright suddenly. “Wait, nobody’s planning to duel, are they? You’re sure? Because it’s been outlawed around here for a while. Burr got Corporate to ban it, because he was sick of dealing with the insurance settlements.” John sighed wistfully. “Yeah, I really miss it. Especially patching up Alex, afterwards. That was fun. But seriously, though, if someone’s planning on dueling, you have to tell me, right now.” There was a pause. John’s eyebrows rose skeptically. “Okay, if you’re sure--”_

_The door flew open. “Laurens, I need you now. **He’s here!!** ” Alex whispered from offscreen._

_John’s face turned pastel green. “No.”_

_Alex was by his side in an instant. “I know it sucks, but we’ll make it through together.”_

_“How did he find me here?” John moaned._

_Alex’s eyebrows crinkled together. “John, we work for him. He runs this company.”_

_“No--no. This isn’t real. George Frederick runs this company. Not my d--”_

_“Yeah. George Frederick. Who runs this company. Is here. Today. To inspect us,” Alex babbled frantically. “Wake up, get your head on straight. Eliza’s detaining him in reception, but she can’t last much longer! I need you--wait. Who’d you think I meant?”_

_“Nobody. It doesn’t matter.”_

* * *

By the time Alex dragged John to the front desk, Eliza was at her wits’ end.

“Sir, they’ll be with you shortly. In the meantime, can I offer you something to drink?”

George Frederick shifted his red leather jacket on his shoulders. “No, don’t change the _subject_ ,” he snapped.

“Alright, sir. What would you prefer that I talk about?” asked Eliza, pasting a smile onto her face.

“What do people think of me here?” he asked haughtily.

Eliza pursed her lips. “You’re one of the main topics of conversation.”

“Oh,” said George, looking up. “Is that so? I thought I was going to have to send in a fully armed battalion to remind these workers that I exist.”

Eliza’s eyes widened. “Oh. I’m pretty sure everyone here...knows that you exist. Definitely.”

“And what do they say about me?” asked George, preening. “It’s okay,” he added, “you can speak honestly. I can take it.”

Eliza balked. “Um--well--it’s mostly good stuff. Things. About how you’re--the head of the company. Which is true. It’s a fact. A true fact. Then there are people who say things about how you’re--a person. Which is also a fact. And you have blue eyes.”

“Yes, which is a fact. But what opinions do people hold? What do they _say_?”

Eliza’s eyes darted to the door. “Um, they have opinions. Lots of opinions. About you. Um, and here they are right now! Mr. Frederick, here’s Alex Hamilton and John Laurens. They’ll be sitting in on your meeting with Mr. Washington today.”

“A pleasure as always,” said Alex.

* * *

_“There is literally nobody at this company that I hate more than George Frederick. He’s an asshole. A self-absorbed, stuck-up asshole with no business sense. Who somehow runs this company. And his board of directors is somehow worse.” Alex huffed out a sigh. “Yes, when I say I hate him the most of anybody at this company, that includes Lee. As much as I hate to say it. George Frederick is such an asshole that he makes Lee look as nice as Eliza and John put together. That’s how much I hate him. Literally.”_

* * *

“Where’s Other George?”

“Mr. Washington is in his office. He’s expecting you,” John said, interposing himself between Alex and George Frederick.

“I was just having a lovely conversation with Eliza here about how much everyone at this company loves the company. The question, of course, is whether you’re willing to pay the _price_ of that love.”

“Sorry, what?” said John.

George sniffed. “Never mind. We’ll discuss it inside.”

* * *

_“Wait, what? George Frederick is doing inspections today? Why didn’t anyone tell me? I would have called in sick!” Washington eyed the window longingly, as if wondering whether he could possibly escape. After a moment, he blinked and returned to his computer. “Fine. Tell Eliza to send them in,” he pronounced glumly, with the air of a man consigned to the electric chair._

* * *

George Frederick couldn’t simply walk into Washington’s office, of course. He insisted on entering, with dramatic aplomb. It took him a full thirty seconds to sit down in a way that wouldn’t threaten his expensive wardrobe. Then, of course, there was the matter of Seabury, his Chihuahua, who had to be liberated from his doggie carrier, installed on a chair of his own, and fed caviar-flavored kibble from a sterling silver bowl. Washington observed the dog on his chair with distaste before leaning forward to deal with his guest.

“George.”

“George.”

“What can we do for you today?” Washington inquired coldly.

George Frederick pushed his designer sunglasses farther up on his nose. Alex and John, who had managed to find seats in a cramped corner of the office, eyed him warily.

“Ah, yes. I just wanted to let you know that your branch is over-budget.”

Alex let out a spluttering cough. Seabury growled, baring his teeth and yapping hysterically. When the chaos subsided, Alex leaned forward. “Excuse me, sir, you must be mistaken. I balanced those books myself! There’s no way we’re over budget.”

“The board voted to cut your branch’s budget last night.”

“What! That’s ridiculous! You can’t just--”

“Alright, listen up, young man. Do you remember how, in the early days of this branch, Corporate poured resources into supporting the bidding war with Monarchie Papier? Good. Now that we’ve bought up that ridiculous French company, it’s time for your branch to start earning back the money that Corporate invested in it. I’ve had my accountants draw up a list of cost-cutting measures. You will implement these measures. If these measures fail to decrease the budget to my specifications by the end of the month, there will be consequences. Meaning this branch will be shut down and you will all lose your jobs. _Capische_? Good. Come on, Seabury.”

Seabury leapt off the chair, prancing out after his master with a parting growl for Alex.

* * *

Angelica approached Herc and Laf over lunch. “Hey guys!”

“Bonjour, Schuyler. What can we do for ze you?”

“Um, I just have a quick question. What exactly is a _duel_ , in the context of this company?”

Laf and Herc stared at each other with matching expressions of dismay. The silence stretched out ominously.

“Oh, snap,” said Mulligan.

“Who iz et?” asked Lafayette.

“Lee,” Angelica admitted. “He hit on my sister. Offensively. And then, when we asked him to apologize, he said he challenged me to a duel. One on one, to a surrender, in the parking lot, after work. So I just want to get a general sense of what the rules are, you know.”

Herc and Laf exchanged glances. “Okay,” said Herc, “I think we can help you out.”

* * *

_“Ze Ten Commandments of Dueling,” explained Laf, holding a book up to the camera. “Alexander wrote zis two years ago. Lee kept on making up rules to, how you say, disqualify him. So he, how you say, codified, eet.”_

* * *

“Okay, so Peggy’s your second. We need someone onsite as a witness, who can help patch up injuries,” Mulligan explained.

“Moi,” Laf volunteered.

“Laf,” Herc agreed. “Your job is simple, Angelica--punch Lee, hard and fast, until he gives in. But don’t punch him too hard, or he ends up in the hospital.”

Angelica furrowed her eyebrows. “What happens if he ends up in the hospital?”

Laf shuddered. “Burr finds out.”

“Huh?”

Herc took over. “Burr hates duels. He says they’re dumb and immature, and he’s more than willing to report us to Corporate over dueling if people get hurt. He hates the insurance lawsuits. So, this whole thing has to stay between us. It can’t get to Burr, see above, and if it gets to Laurens, he literally has no choice _but_ to tell Corporate. So anybody who’d tell those people is out.”

Angelica sighed. “Okay. Herc, I need you to do me a favor. You have to distract Eliza. Have to, have to, _have to_. Lizzie can’t keep her mouth shut on secrets, and John’s her friend. I mean, she’s the sort of person who thinks lying by omission is just as bad as lying.”

“Ouch,” said Herc sympathetically, “that’s got to suck.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t exactly convenient for getting away with stuff when we were kids. So can you distract her?”

Herc deliberated. The specter of Eliza’s wrath after the Petsmart and Pigtails incident hung heavily over the office. Then again, Angelica’s wrath was also legendary, and it had a tendency to become far more violent.

Mulligan gulped as Angelica tapped her foot impatiently. “Fine.”

* * *

The instant George Frederick left, Alex grabbed the folder of budget cuts and leafed through it. “Okay, guys, this sucks, but we’re going to make the best of it...okay, cuts to parties is fine...apparently we’re switching to a cheaper internet provider...yep, this one sucks, but we can deal...hold on, _**what??**_ ” His voice climbed a full three octaves before he fell back, massaging his throat and gasping.

John, panicking, grabbed Alex by the arm and shook him. “Alex, I need you to talk to me. Alex, do you hear me? Alex? Nod or shake, Alex, okay? Yes or no, _are you going to go into shock_?”

Alex clutched the paper with white hands and mumbled something unintelligible, turning his ashen gaze appealingly to Washington.

“What’s wrong, son?” asked Washington.

John sat on the ground and tried to drag Alex’s head onto his lap. “Lex, do you need to go to the hospital or something? Is this about your _mom?!?_ ”

Alex shoved John’s hand away, staring straight ahead with unseeing eyes and groaning as if he were a humpback whale with a bellyache.

“We need to get Eliza,” John said frantically. “Go get her, now. He might respond to a woman!”

* * *

_Alex was wedged between John and George in the interview room. “You guys are ridiculous,” he grumbled. “Seriously, I’m not your guys’ kid, okay? I just needed a minute.”_

_“We were worried about you,” John explained, leaning in front of him to check his pupils for a concussion._

_Alex made a noise that could best be transcribed as “harrumph.”_

_George sighed. “You gave us a real scare, son.”_

_“Not your son!” Alex squawked indignantly. He pointed to George. “Employee.” Then to John. “Partner. Not. Your. **Son**.”_

_“Whatever you say, son,” Washington sighed._

_Alex seethed._

* * *

“Alright, is he breathing?” asked Eliza coolly.

John and George exchanged helpless glances. “I don’t know,” John panted. “Is there a way to check?”

Eliza sat down in the chair next to Alex and felt his pulse. “He’s fine,” she declared.

“No, he isn’t,” George insisted. “I’m his fa-- _boss_ , and I should know!”

Alex turned his face towards Eliza appealingly. He fisted clumsy hands in her dark hair and dragged her face down to his. She listened to him whisper for a moment before nodding firmly. “He says, “ _he’s going to take our coffee, Betsey, we have to go on strike, which means George can’t know, because technically in a strike George is supposed to side with Corporate, can you find a way to get me and John out of here so we can plan the-- **Ow**!_ ””. Eliza paused. “Alex, stop pulling my hair!” she scolded.

Alex scowled moodily, before making a number of exceedingly sneaky sign language hand gestures to John within sight of George.

John’s eyes went wide. “Shut up--and get out of here and--give myself a thumbs up? No? Slit my throat? Slit Eliza’s throat? Take my pet turtle and--feed it to Seabury? Why? Tell--my--mother--no, tell George--to-- _Alex_! That’s not very nice. Go--start a picket line--for--disabled goldfish--no--to protest--eighties hairstyles--no?”

Alex rolled his eyes.

“He hurt his throat,” Eliza translated. “He says you should just put him out of his misery. I would recommend tea with honey and lemon.”

George was out of his seat in an instant. He pelted to the break room and threw open the door, to find that--

\--the coffee and tea dispensers were currently being removed. A sign installed on the wall where they used to be informed him that the Colonial Paper Company had bought an expensive, high-end tea shop, and that all employees who wanted tea would be required to walk ten minutes to the tea shop, and identify themselves there as employees of Colonial Paper. They would then be able to order tea at twice the regular price.

“No,” said George, half disbelievingly. “No. This can’t be true.”

Unfortunately for them all, it was very true.

* * *

“I would like you to be my second in a duel today,” Lee informed Mulligan.

“Can’t,” Mulligan informed him without looking up from his work.

Lee moved a desk down and stood behind Lafayette. “I would like you to be my second in a duel today.”

“Non, non, non, non!” Lafayette insisted. “I am ze impartial witness!”

“Ah,” said Lee. He turned to the cameraman. “I would like you to be my second in a duel today. You would be required to stand behind me and look menacing. And to not tell Laurens or Burr. No? Alright.”

* * *

_Eliza had barely situated herself back at her desk when the cameraman came back. “We’re doing an interview series with the whole office, in honor of Valentine’s Day, where we ask them what qualities they look for in a partner. It’ll only take a moment,” a producer explained._

_Eliza seemed confused. “I already did mine. Oh, alright, I can do a retake. Yes, of course.”_

_The camera followed her out into the hall._

_“What I look for in a partner is--oh, I see. There’s something I need to know, and you had to separate me from the rest of the office somehow? Alright. Wait, what? Angelica’s fighting Lee in the parking lot in five minutes?! They could both get fired? Peggy **knew?!?!** ” She flew up from her seat, barely pausing to straighten her dress. “I have to stop them!”_

_Her footsteps raced out._

_“Thank you for telling me!” she yelled faintly from offscreen._

* * *

_“What I look for in a partner is--” Alex mused._

_“That they’re not a f***ing misogynist,” grumbled Peggy._

_“I would want someone who’s kind,” Eliza decided. “Someone who cares about other people.”_

_“I think this is a horrible concept for a video,” Washington stated flatly. “Now please get out, I have to figure out this whole strike situation.”_

_“My Adrienne, she is ze only one for me. Her hair, et is ze only hair as beautiful as mine. And ze way her eyes lit up when we--” . Lafayette’s lips suddenly blurred. His voiceover continued, in a chastened tone, “played board games. For ze first time. Which is wat ze couples do. On zeir days off. And after zeir kids are in bed.”_

_“Um, guys, I’m married,” Herc explained. “Have been for ten years. I feel like people forget that.”_

_“Someone who’s not a f***ing misogynist. No further comment,” Angelica insisted haughtily. “Wait, what do you mean, my sister said the same thing? Eliza would never--oh, Peggy. Um, let’s see then. I guess I’m looking for a mind at work. Someone who’s as smart as me. Or smarter. I would never settle for less.”_

_“John. My entire life, I’ve been looking for John Laurens. That’s my only answer. John is the literal embodiment of everything I look for in a partner: sweet, kind, caring, idealistic, hopelessly in love with me, and drop-dead gorgeous.” Alex finished._

_“Alex,” said Laurens. “I really, really love him.”_

_Eliza continued, her face flushing slightly. “I mean, of course, you don’t want a doormat, who wants a doormat? Not most people, certainly, which is probably why I’m still single. But as much as I’ve been attracted to rulebreakers--before, definitely before, not recently at all, it must have been--” (she paused for breath) “--years and years ago, not recently--I guess it’s like my mom said, how those are the people you date, not the people you marry. You want someone who’s going to commit to you. Maybe it doesn’t even matter if you’re in love with someone else! Seeing as how the love for someone else will never work out. Maybe that’s what people should do. Just accept that the person they’re in love with will never feel that way, and--and--and move on! Just, you know, enjoy being friends with Al--that person. Maybe it isn’t love. In fact, I’m sure it isn’t love. This hypothetical situation that’s happening to literally nobody in this office. Anyway, I guess I’m looking for someone who cares about other people’s well-being. Someone who understands that the rules are there for a reason, someone willing to work within those rules to achieve change. Oh, and someone single. Definitely someone single.”_

_Aaron Burr sat back in his chair, considering. “My type. You want to know what my type is. Okay, I guess. Um, I’ve kind of been friend-zoned my whole life, so I don’t really think dating’s in my future. I know that’s considered a toxic concept nowadays, but there isn’t really another way to put it. I don’t feel entitled, though, which is the issue with the concept. I’ve just accepted that people just aren’t interested in me. Not permanently, at least. Which is fine. I really should get out more. It's been years since--what I mean, is, I really should stop waiting for Th--for something that's never going to happen. I should just give myself a chance--anyway, if I ever did get to date someone, I’d want someone kind, and loyal. The sort of person who wouldn’t break my--”_

_He broke off suddenly, looking up. “What can I do for you, Lee?”_

_“I don’t want to talk to you, Burr. I want to talk to Cameraman number three. Cameraman number three, will you be my second in a duel today? You would be required to stand behind me and look menacing. And to not tell Laurens or--oh, no.”_

_The sound of frantic footsteps was heard as Lee made his escape._

_“Crap,” said Burr. “Excuse me,” he continued to the camera, “can we continue this another time? I have to go prevent a duel.”_

_He stood up with a little bow. The moment he was offscreen, he could be heard to sprint out. The camera followed him._

* * *

“Du-el! Du-el! Du-el! Du-el!” Peggy and Laf yelled.

Angelica cracked her knuckles in preparation, throwing practice punches at an imaginary opponent.

Her phone buzzed. “Herc? What do you mean, you can’t find Lizzie? No, look again. You have to distract her! I’m counting on you to keep her in the dark!”

“It ez time,” Lafayette whispered, ushering her towards Lee. They lined up on opposite sides of a parking space.

“Have to go, Herc. Bye.”

“Alright!” Peggy yelled. “Here are the rules. I’m going to count down from ten by ones. When I reach zero, you guys can cross the parking space and fight each other. First person to surrender loses. If you step out of the parking space, you will be disqualified. Are you ready? Ten...nine...eight...seven...six...five...four...three...two--”

At the exact same moment, Lee and Angelica found themselves pulled back by the waist from the duel.

“WAIT!” Burr yelled, trying and failing to tackle Lee. “The duel’s off. It’s against company policy!”

Eliza wrestled a clawing Angelica into passivity. “Angie, what were you thinking?”

“But if we don’t duel,” Peggy asked, “how will we settle our dispute?”

“Wait,” said Burr, “what’s the dispute?”

“Wezzer Lee should apologize,” Laf supplied.

“Both of you are going to apologize,” Eliza insisted sternly. “And then, all four of you will get into your separate cars and go home without speaking further to one another. Do I make myself clear? Lee, you can start.”

“I apologize for using sophisticated humor that went over your puny female head,” Lee spat.

“Is that how it’s going to be?” Angelica inquired sweetly. “Well, then. I apologize for having the courage to stand up to your sexist bullshit. Lizzie, I’ll put a quarter in the jar tomorrow for that. C’mon, Pegs. We’re leaving.”

Peggy stuck her tongue out at Lee in parting.

* * *

Burr and Eliza stared at one another as though they’d never truly noticed each other before.

“Um, thanks,” said Eliza, shifting slightly on her feet. “I’m glad we stopped that. I wouldn't have wanted to explain Angie’s injuries to my dad.”

“My pleasure,” said Burr gallantly. “Until tomorrow, then.”

“Until tomorrow,” Eliza agreed, turning around. Burr watched her go with a stupid grin plastered on his face. He turned to find his own car, stopped, turned back to watch her, shook his head, turned around again, turned back again, and steeled himself resolutely.

“Wait up!” he called. Eliza turned around.

“Oh, sorry, did I drop something? I didn’t mean to, but you know how it is, I--”

Burr dug his hands in his pockets. “Um, Eliza?”

“Yes?”

“I’ve never done this before, but--would you be interested in going out with me sometime? We could make a quick appearance at that Valentine’s party, and then go do dinner and a movie?” Burr’s face flushed.

Eliza’s reddened to match it. “I--yeah! I’d love that, Aaron. I’ll see you, then.”

“Yeah,” Burr agreed. “See you.”

She grinned, walked away a few feet, smacked a palm against her forehead, and walked back. “Hey, Aaron?”

“Yeah? What is it, Eliza?”

Her eyebrows and nose were crinkled up in minor frustration. Burr was struggling to wipe a goofy grin off his face. “I hate to impose, and I could totally get a taxi, or wait for Alex and ask him, but Ang and Peg just drove off without me. Is there any way we could--?”

“Yeah, totally, sure!” Burr agreed with a chuckle. She smiled warmly at him and jogged a little to catch up. They both burst out laughing.

Neither of them noticed the new sign in Washington’s window. It read: “ **Colonial Paper Company: Now on STRIKE.”**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If people have things they'd like to see in future chapters, let me know! I've kind of fallen in love with this AU! (Next time's going to be a heartbreaker in the style of The Office's episode, "Casino Night"!)
> 
> As always, let me know what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> Please please please comment! It makes me so so happy!!!


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